Dad?

It was a particularly cloudy morning that morning, and the sun was no where to be found. It had been one week since she found her mother passed away in her sleep. She had been sick with terminal cervical cancer. It was either do chemo-theraphy to possibly slow down the progression of cancer cells, or to let nature just run its course. The girl’s mother chose to let mother nature make her choice, for her. She surrendered working, to care for her daughter’s educational needs; as she would be able to draw a check for her cancer. Hoping it would be enough to pay bills and feed them both.

As things got better in school for the young girl, her mothers health got progressively worse. By the time the young girl became a young teenager in her last year of school, her mother passed away. Leaving her all alone. Still being a student, and under the law, a child who is still a student is taken care of by Child Protective Services, or CPS for short. So she was sent into the system, where she was sent to her caseworkers house first. For the first few days, she stayed with her. Though ended up having to have a new caseworker, due to an escalated supervised argument.

As the new caseworker picked her up, she was placed with another foster family the next day. Staying with them for about 3 months, she felt cramped. Staying in the same bedroom, as a prepubescent fourteen year old boy. She was ready to go home, to the place that she lived in with her mother. Reminded of the supervised visitation meeting coming up and the escalation between the caseworker she had, she smiled rather deviously. The next day, the family was cleaning the house and preparing for the caseworker to arrive. So she decided to ignore them, and hide out in the bedroom. Locking the bedroom door, she didn’t come out until the caseworker got there. The family explained they didn’t know why she was acting out, but she explained another reasoning. Explaining that they did not have a second bedroom, they had promised to build, yet. She was sleeping in the same bedroom with a young boy, who was just barely a teenager himself. And that she was raised with other foster siblings also, but this is not right. At least she had her own room then.

That wasn’t even the point. The point was she wanted to leave, and this was not the place she felt home. Which she made known, to them all. And that night, once she had everything packed, she apologized for her rude behavior. Another thing her mother always told her. As memories flashed of all the times her mother said that, she turned her head away from them. Tears were starting to form in her eyes. As she sniffed, she gently rubbed her eyes. Once again apologizing, but left out of sight before anyone could say anything.

As she sat outside, she chewed on her thumb nail. Her eyes darted back and forth, remembering everything once more before she left. As the caseworker moved towards her, she didn’t say anything. Knowing how Cordovia was, was a bonus for the woman. But getting her to speak was even better. Since her mother died, the young girl closed herself off to everyone. Though being around adults, it was a different situation. Adults just made her nervous in general. Well, and the foster home before last, let’s just say was physically, emotionally, mentally and sometimes verbally abusive to the foster children. Even if their own children had acted out.

Shaking lightly in the passenger seat, Cordovia pulled her knees in the seat with her. Pulling them semi close to her chest, she placed her forehead on her knees. Sighing, she didn’t bother to talk about anything. She just wanted to be fine. Because sometimes missing puzzle pieces do look pleasing without their final pieces. It both brings and receives mystery. “Look kiddo, everythings going to be fine. We are going to the country tomorrow. There is another family wanting to meet you, from a little place called Libertyville. How’s that sound?” The caseworker asked, as she smiled softly. Hoping to get some kind of emotion out of her. It had been three months, and her emotions were unstable as she had been missing the only thing she had left in her life.

The next morning came sooner than expected, and Cordovia hadn’t slept a wink. She rubbed her tired eyes, then went to fix what little make up she did wear. Walking throughout the caseworker’s house was weird. There were old pictures lined the wall, with older people’s portraits in them. Some names I couldn’t even pronounce either. Marble bust heads seemed to be in every hallway that came to a dead in. Three. That’s how many hallways came to a dead end and the busts; they all could be seen, not far off from one another. Shaking off the weird feeling she had, Cordovia walked towards the kitchen.

There two men, in very well tailored suits, appeared to be standing. As they explained they had been a part of my real father’s team of attorney’s; she was told her father recently suffered from a sudden heart attack. And was in critical condition. But with this sad news now out, it only put more strain on her emotionally and mentally. They offered to take her home, if the caseworker would allow it.

Something in the pit of her stomach, told Cordovia that this was bad. But she only listened to those that took care of her, when she needed it. She didn’t understand the feeling of caring anymore, and it only pained her. She looked down to the mark on her wrist, it seemed to help calm her down. Calm memories of her mother flowed through her mind.

As they all reached the car, one of the men took out his cellphone. Dialing in a number, Cordovia could only catch a few digits. She rolled her eyes, then turned to look out of the window. Everything seemed to drift by. The city scene, then into the country area. Then that’s when she started to get nervous. Wanting more answers, the girl pressed further into asking why they hadn’t found her sooner? Or even why her father didn’t bother to come find her mother and her? But none of these questions got answered. 'Useless.' She thought to herself, then crossed her arms.

Soon, the black colored SUV reached a town called ‘Libertyville’, well the sign partially said that. She scrunched her eyebrows together, then leaned forward once more. “Look, the caseworker said there was a family here that wanted to meet me. But, why are we here?” She asked, her voice seemed concerned and very worried at the same time. As the two gentlemen looked at one another, they nodded, as if something they understood something between their looks. “Your father lives here. When he found out you were getting adopted, after trying to locate you, he sent us to get you.” The man in the passenger seat said, as he looked over his shoulder at her. “And you will know more soon, just not from us. Sorry it’s orders.” The man driving said, as if wanted to protest what orders were given to him.

Nodding, without further word, she leaned back into the back seat once more. Looking out the window, Cordovia noticed she really hadn’t been taking in the scenery and the town. Sighing, she just pulled out her cell phone. It was something she normally did, when there was a long drive ahead of her. But this time she hadn’t looked out the window, because she was talking and listening.

And soon, the town was gone and the SUV pulled down the single lane road. Off in the distance, a large manor could be seen. Pulling her headphones out of her ears, she looked at the large house. It was a beautiful two story Goergian Colonial. As the SUV seemed to pull into the long concrete driveway, the manor grew closer. The outside of the house was a medium dark grey color, though enough not to take in the heat. Nor to throw off the structure. The columns seemed to glisten in the sunlight. The white from it was brighter than expected, almost blinding. As she took in the beautiful structure, she noticed how close they were now.

Once the SUV rounded the curler driveway, they pulled to a stop. Hopping out quickly, the girl moved over towards the fountain in the middle of the cirle driveway. Looking within, her once indifferent face seemed to light up. ‘Coy fish in the fountains. Classy.’ She thought, then turned around to look at the men who brought her.

“We are to show you to your room, till dinner. Your father is at work until then. Please follow us.” The man that was in the passenger seat told her with a soft smile. He seemed to be nicer than the other. And talked more also. Nodding in agreement, the three of them proceeded to the front door.

A few stairs and a large oak double door stood in their way. The columns previously looked upon, could now be studied quickly as well. The way they shined, was not paint, but because they were pure white marble with grey in them. Cordovia next took in the door, which was lined with the tree of life in iron and the roots wrapping themselves in a circle. The base color of the door was a deep cherry red color. And the doorknobs seemed to shine with their gold iron plating.

Pushing the door open, there stood a man with a smile on his face. His hair was dark, though slightly white on the left and right side; where his ears were. His eyes were a medium colored green, with light brown speckles within them. And his skin tone, it was a medium tan, that seemed to be darker than it was. With a smile, he approached the three of them. Looking down upon the girl, he held out his hand. “At last we met, again.” He spoke with a deep voice that held warmth behind it.

The girl was rather confused for a moment, though didn’t want to be rude. She introduced herself, and explained the reasoning why she was there. Though it seemed to make the man laugh quite hard. As he motioned for her to follow, she reluctantly followed him. Though, still she did not understand who he was.

They seemed to walk down a small corridor that was lined with pictures of older people once again. She always got creeped out at her caseworkers house. And now here. Shivers ran down her body she noticed, not one bust head. She was happy to not find one, yet. The flooring was wood, with a long red rug over it. Little decorative tables lined every other side of the hall under each picture frame. Different flowers seemed to be on each table, as well. The wallpaper was a light cream color, and the framework was a dark brown color. Accenting the walls perfectly.

Once the man stopped in front of a picture, the girl looked up at it. His face seemed to register in her mind. Though only for a moment. 5 year old Cordovia rummaging through her mothers ‘other’ labeled box. She pulled out a picture of a man holding a little baby. His face was slender and calm looking. His hair was a dark brown color, almost black looking. And his eyes, they were a medium green. And he was quite tall looking in the picture. As she flipped it around, she read ‘Marco Briarwood - age 34; with Cordovia 1 week.’

Her eyes darted to the man standing next to her, she then asked softly and with caution “Dad?” With a smile, he turned to look at her, light tears formed within his eyes. “You remembered after all.” He spoke with a soft voice that cracked noticeably with emotion.